


Fix Me

by narukyuu



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Falling In Love, Fetish, Fluff, Glasses, Humor, M/M, Masturbation, Original Character(s), Past Abuse, Past Lives, Past Torture, Robots, Sex Toys, Smut, Violence, Work In Progress, rating and tags might change, sex engineering, stuff I don't usually write, technosexuality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-05-10
Packaged: 2018-01-09 22:04:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narukyuu/pseuds/narukyuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He would have left it there to be consumed by time and nature, he would have gotten what he needed for his work and leave, if not for that voice. Screeching, mechanical, so weak he almost didn’t hear it.<br/>“Fix me.” </p><p>James finds a broken robot in a junk yard, and decides to fix it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. James

**Author's Note:**

> OK.  
> So, I can't really write fluff or humor and you'll have to forgive me if it seems too forced. sorry :(
> 
> the story was inpired by this:  
> http://scifoxart.tumblr.com/post/73644766173/narukyuu-drawings-from-today-first-one-is-for  
> I drew a broken, ugly robot (the first drawing in the post)  
> And Scifox who is an amazing and talented person, gave him a happy ending with that adorable boy. and made those awsome comics about them.
> 
> I didn't really have choice. :D  
> Hopefully there will be more comics done by her too, and maybe more drawing by me, if I ever have the time.
> 
> Since I'm really bad at NOT adding angst and having bad things happening to my characters, well, just prepare yourself that bad things might happen.  
> I will warn at the start of a chapter if anything not mentioned in the tags is happening.

James never thought that it would -- that it _could_ get so far.

He still couldn’t believe it, really. It was a broken, ravished humanoid he found at a junk yard, it’s parts broken, scattered around, it’s artificial skin torn and worn out by the sun, parts of it were missing –

It was creepy.

And he would have left it there to be consumed by time and nature, he would have gotten what he needed for his work and leave, if not for that voice. Screeching, mechanical, so weak he almost didn’t hear it.

“Fix me.”

Once it mouthed the words - the half of its face still wearing the human skin actually moving its lips to the words, full lips – their colour in the past probably was a soft pink. Once he mouthed the words, his eyes lightened up but then blinked out almost immediately. The lips closed, but the voice kept rolling out – broken, in bits, it kept saying “fix me”. It spent its last ounce of energy to tell him that.

He didn’t know, didn’t understand why he removed the broken thing from the trash, why he moved it, struggling with its enormous weight as he dragged it to his car and placed it in the back sit, unable to even contemplate putting it in the trunk like he would with any other piece of crap he found at that place. Why he got it to his basement based studio and placed it on his table, discarding his other projects into cart boxes – why he spent the whole night cleaning the skin resembling material, shining the metal plates and scrubbing off oil and rust and dirt, working gently so no more parts broke or tore down, getting filth out from any nook and cranny he found and noting the damage remaining.

He didn’t understand – what about this humanoid - this creepy, horrible thing he found in the trash, what was it that attracted him so much about it? 

 

When he first found it, the robot didn’t have his left leg and arm, and from what was left of them it seemed like they were violently detached. The left side of his face had the skin torn off, the eyes were broken and burnt out. His hair had been torn off the metal plates on his head, leaving only a few strands of blond falling on a distorted face. Many of his internal systems were crushed or dysfunctional and had to be replaced.

And the worst part – his core processor was missing.

He could understand why someone would remove it, cores were expensive – even old ones like this one probably had. They controlled everything about the robot – his functionality, movements, even the AI was stored in that one piece… without it – it shouldn’t be able to do a thing.

Which was pretty peculiar, since he _did._ He told him to fix him, he looked at him when he did, and he saw him do that with his own eyes–

Taking a deep breath, he pushed his glasses up his nose and closed his eyes. Better focus on the task at hand – he needed a core processor that would be fit for such an old model and – oh! Now that he thought of it, he actually had one. Yes, somewhere…

The next hour he spent searching through all his closets and drawers, throwing around papers and mechanical parts with no use, he knew he had a core stored somewhere, he knew he couldn’t have thrown it away, and he certainly didn’t give it away to anyone. He wouldn’t do that.  But as it seemed - it wasn’t in the studio.

That meant only one thing.

“Have you been going through my stuff, AGAIN?!” he said angrily as he climbed the stairs, finding his roommate – slacking off on the sofa as usual, watching television while eating what looked like a very greasy bucket of chicken wings. The black haired man turned his head to look at him, shrugged and returned his gaze to the TV. “where is what you took?” he said, holding himself from cursing and strangling the man – which he couldn’t do anyway since he wasn’t very able-bodied.

“I was gonna sell it, the usual.” He shrugged again, “go through the box and get what you need, but leave me some stuff… I still got to pay rent.”  He said with his mouth full of chicken.

Disgusted, he went to a big cart box and started digging. As usual – his roommate had taken many worthless trinkets to sell, usually he didn’t care much…

“Do you have any idea how much this thing costs?!” he called out when he finally found what he was looking for, a piece of bronze metal, it’s shape resembling the symbol of a heart. Now-days Cores looked nothing like that – they were all small microchips. This model was very old, a collector item he won on an auction, he had his doubts about the usability of it – but it was worth a try…

“Wh-what? Hey, if it’s worth something let me sell it!” he went back down the stairs, not paying attention to his roommate coming after him with the bucket of chicken wings in hand. He went back to his robot and knelt next to it, holding the bronze heart with two shaky hands.

Once he puts it in, he can officially start fixing him.

“Whoa. This is sick.” His roommate came around behind him and looked with mouth agape at the disfigured robot, “Dude, this is grotesque. What are you doing?”

Slowly, he placed the bronze heart inside a cubic hole in the robot’s chest, right where his heart would be had he been human. “I’m fixing him.” He said softly, listening as suddenly a whirring sound filled the air, it was working. The core was integrating into the body…

“Fixing- what _do you_ need a robot for?!” the black haired man said as he walked around the robot, “this is gonna take you years! Listen, give me that heart thingy and I’ll get us a good deal on it, I’ll buy you dinner, you can throw this ugly thing back where you found it and go back to being a normal nerd like before and-“

“Shut up, Steven.” He murmured, getting up to stand eye level with his robot, “I will fix him, and he will be perfect.”

 

And he did.

It was frustrating and tedious, getting parts that were compatible with both the model of the robot and the core and could also perform well was an impossible mission, and yet – he managed. He found parts in the weirdest places, on the internet, in small dusty shops, he returned to the junkyard at least twice a week - it amazed him how many things - useful, working trinkets that he could use people would just throw away.   

A day by day, a bit by bit his robot was restored. He created new limbs for him, replaced the broken or rusty frame where it was needed, he recolored his worn-out skin and applied patches where it was due. Every day his hands moved along the robot, felt his system work and produce so much heat under the artificial, yet so human-like skin. Every day he looked into the eyes, new eyes he found – they were dark and glassy, but he knew that when he finally turned him on, they would shine like emeralds.

He couldn’t wait to turn him on.

What would he be like?

He could decide, he could program the AI himself, make him be however he needed – wanted him to be. But… somehow, that felt unfair. There was something about that robot, even when his face was disfigured and his head naked of hair, even when he looked nothing like a human being - something about him, about the way he looked at him that first time and asked… demanded that he fixed him, demanded to be alive - something about him was just profoundly human. Programming him would wipe that, it would give him security in the result of his hard work, a promise of safety…

But it would erase whatever it was that made him decide to take the humanoid into his house, into his head… perhaps even into his heart.

He passed a hand over the human-like side of the robot’s face, feeling the systems underneath whirring and working, integrating themselves with the core and with each other - Soon, soon he would wake him up. The skin was so soft, so warm under his touch, he saw his reflection on the yet inactive eye, his fingers kept feeling the skin of his forehead, his cheek, his lips –

His own cheeks felt hot suddenly, and he took a deep breath before moving away from the robot, bringing his hand to cover his mouth. Why – why did he think that he wanted to kiss those lips? Those non-human lips, more than half of them not even there.

That was enough work for one day, right there.

When he went up, still covering his reddened face with his hand – Steven came to greet him at the end of the stairs. “Hey Jamie,” He smiled at him shrewdly, “long time no see. How’s your boyfriend doing down there?”

His blushing strengthened and he stopped in his place, rearranging his glasses while biting his lower lip. “Huh? Wh-what? What boyfriend-? Oh shut up!”  He said and puffed his cheeks angrily. “I need to get a few more parts… _it_ will probably be ready for activation next week." ‘It’… he didn’t want to think of him like that, he wasn’t just some item, when he woke up he would have a personality, he would be alive.

James couldn’t wait.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you I would continue! ha!
> 
> This story will soon have at least a few comics pages to accompany it, courtesy of http://www.tumblr.com/search/scifox (whom you should follow and adore forever just look at that art!)

 

He stood before him.

And he was perfect. He really was.

There was no reminder of his previous condition, his skin was flawless, smooth. His face was complete and his eyes glowed green like he imagined they would. His hair flowed behind his head into a short tail, blonde, soft and glowing like that of a human. His face – well there was still a line in the middle where he patched the new skin to the old one, but it did not make him any less beautiful, even handsome.

His body was also impeccable, the cavity in his chest filled with the bronze heart core – sealed off by a glass window. The new limbs were patched into place and working – slightly moving in reaction to any movement he made, and he did make a lot of them, surrounding the still body standing in the middle of his studio, touching it slightly and feeling the heat of his skin, and the way his chest would rise and fall slightly, imitating a human breathing normally. The eyes remained fixed, looking ahead, unmoving, his expression still the same as it was when he first activated him. When he first woke up.

The humanoid said nothing.

Freaking out a bit, he moved to face him, examining his face carefully for any sign or movement. Was he wrong in hoping the robot will have his own personality? Should he have pre-programmed him? Maybe he should… maybe it’d be better. But then the robot raised his eyes – sharp green eyes and looked at him.

Nervous, James looked at the robot, words had left his mind – what do you talk about with a robot? One that had just been activated? Was it always this awkward with robots? Weren’t they supposed to be intelligent beings, with the extremely advance AI’s installed in even the oldest models – he was supposed to have at least greeted him already! 

Breathing deeply and long, unable to bear the awkward silence any longer, he finally talked.

“I finally… finished fixing you.” Jaime smiled, smiling was good, smiling was showing he wasn’t nervous or scared or disappointed, even if he was, a bit.

The humanoid looked at him and tilted his head to the side but didn’t talk yet and Jaime looked back, immersing in the beauty of his work. The humanoid being so… blank and barely responsive was disappointing, but could be easily fixed. He ran the traits that were usually implemented in robots through his mind, he could make any kind of personality he desired…

The humanoid still looked at him, his eyes absolute and a shade darker than he thought they would be.

“Fix. Me?” Jaime’s eyes opened widely when he saw the robot’s lips moving, forming the words before he could actually hear them, the voice – it was the same but so very different, less mechanic, deeper, there was no screech, no tick of stuck machines. It wasn’t broken anymore.

“Y-yeah! I fixed you!” he exclaimed and his smile grew into a genuine grin, “I fixed you! I did it!” the humanoid head dropped, his eyes moving slowly, examining his own body, raising his arms, moving his fingers one by one on each hand before moving them to his chest, touching the glass window and closing his eyes. He didn’t speak again and, ridiculously as it may be – he, it, seemed overwhelmed and lost.

Jaime looked at him worriedly, if before the robot shown no emotion at all, now it was as if it showed too much. He observed the small movements as the robot looked and touched his new body, feeling the new skin stretched over his mechanical frame. His eyes followed as the humanoid moved, eventually returning to his starter position. Back to staring blankly at him.

“I-“ he bit his lip, his eyes moving up and down the boy of the humanoid for the hundredth time the last hour, observing him from the top of his head and down. “Something… is missing.” He whispered to himself, causing the robot to tilt his head in wonder again. “Something…” Jaime reddened realising what he missed, or rather – didn’t think of at all while constructing the model. Well, it’s not that a robot needed – sure, some robots were built with such a purpose in the minds of their creators, but Jaime didn’t have that purpose in mind. He didn’t actually think the robot was handsome and attractive, he thought he was beautiful – like art, like a painting or sculpture were beautiful. Not like that.

“Pants.” He said abruptly, when he raised his eyes to find the humanoid staring at him. He turned around and run out of the room, covering his suddenly very hot, red face.

 

Once he was out of the room, his back against one wall and his hand resting against his sweating forehead, Jaime let out a small sigh. Nervously he closed his eyes, he felt weird, and his thoughts were weird. How could anyone actually think of using a robot to… he couldn’t comprehend the idea of it, and yet he was still thinking about it?

His mind went blank while he went through his drawers, searching for clothes that would fit his- the robot. He finally found something, too big to be his, perhaps it was Steve’s, didn’t matter, it seemed to be an appropriate size.

He came back to the studio to find the humanoid standing in the exact same position he left him in, his eyes closed and his body stiff. Jaime came closer slowly, trying to determine whether the robot was just hibernating or if it malfunctioned. Once he was just a few steps away the robot’s eyes opened suddenly and Jaime found himself moving back a step in shock as the green eyes focused on him, then moved down to the pants he held in his hand. “Ah… um, wear those.” Jaime shot his hand forward, averting his look from the intense gaze of the droid, who didn’t move from his spot yet.

“I do not understand.” The robot said mechanically, and Jaime blinked, returning his eyes to meet with those of the robot.

“I brought pants- just-“Jaime found himself looking at a bewildered robot, you would think the programming for basic human interaction would be integrated within the A.I. from the start, like taking something handed to you, and getting dressed. “I- um… I will help you.” Jaime sighed, going down to his knees in front of the droid, who still eyed him in confusion. He took the perfectly constructed foot in his hand, his fingers circling the ankle softly while he lifted the robot’s leg, pulling a sleeve of the pants over it. The robot stood still, without movement, without swaying as you do expect an unbalanced person would.

“I do not understand—“ the robot’s voice became urgent as Jaime took his other leg in his hand and pulled the other sleeve over it. What was there to understand? Since when do droids need to understand anything? Jaime raised his head to look at him as he talked only to find himself looking at that area, reddening immediately.

“W-well, it’s considered inappropriate, everyone has to wear clothes.” He said, pulling the pants over the slender frame, his fingers touching the soft skin as they clothed it,  he touched this skin so many times, he created it, designed it, he stretched it over the metallic frame and gave it shape, but never did he feel it, really feel it. Its warmth, its softness. “Even… even robots.”

The humanoid contemplated on it, processed the words. Was the core really this slow? Maybe it was too old, maybe it wasn’t meant for this kind of thing, not compatible with this kind of robot. Jaime was panicking and he didn’t understand why, it was just a robot, it was just a small, unimportant project he had taken upon himself with no expectations for any retribution, he never expected it to be perfect, he never believed it should be. Who cared if the robot was a bit slow to process information? It was such an old model, and the core was probably damaged in the first place.

The youth raised his hands to cover his face, he was so useless, excited over something so insignificant that he neglected all of his other obligations, worked so hard on something that could never give him anything back. Jaime was not a selfish person, he did not demand payment for favors or considered people as owing his something in return for those favors, he did not overcharge his clients as many did those days. But he never worked for free either. Not even for himself.

From other people he demanded money… from himself he demanded perfection.

The robot was not perfect. It was not all that he could make it be.

He could have optimized the A.I. he should have gotten a better core. He should have looked at the programs before getting carried away with his work.

“You are sad.”

Jaime shook his head intensely, he wasn’t sad, he was disappointed. His creation was beautiful on the outside… but inside it was hollow, useless. It couldn’t process the information quick enough to – wait.

“D-did you just-“ he raised to his feet quickly, stumbling as he arranged his glasses and looked at his robot again, whom was looking at him back with the same non-expression it had on its face before. “Did you just say…”

The humanoid tilted his head, blinking slowly. He raised his leg and then stepped, one leg after the other in a controlled, almost military-stride like manner toward the boy. “You are sad… because you fixed me?” he inquired, stopping a mere foot away from where Jaime stood with a hand covering his agape mouth and a look of wonder in his eyes. The humanoid stared at him and craned his neck forward. “…You should be happy, like before.” The humanoid raised his hand as he said and stroked Jaime’s cheek, “Smile, like before. It was beautiful.”

Jaime froze, his eyes gaping at the robot, his skin shuddering in response to the warm touch. He took a step back.

Was his robot, his slow, imperfect robot – how could it even be? Sure, some robots were designed to react to complex human emotions, they could recognize pain, fear, malicious intent… _arousal_. But that was only so they could react accordingly, it was programmed into their systems. They do not contemplate ‘why’ the emotion exist, or how it came to be. They do not point it out. They do not understand what the emotion is, they just know – and do, what the program tells them.

And this robot – this robot couldn’t possibly be this advance.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't get my computer back just yet, but I still managed to get to a computer and get this done! YAY

“Jamie…” The robot was hibernating in the basement, just until he could think of a reason why he would be like… that. “Jamie…” it was peculiar, the robot was not like any other he had ever seen – in structure he was a beautiful piece of machinery, but his AI was all over the place – he could only blame himself for that, though. Hadn’t he been curious and left it as it was instead of pre-programming it, the robot would have been perfect for… something. He wasn’t sure what a guy like him could do with a robot. People used them as body guards or as house care-takers, but Jamie didn’t need nor want either of those things. “James!”

The youth raised his head to the sound, finding Steven staring at him from a little closer than he was comfortable with. “St-Steven… uh…” he straightened his glasses and his form, he was so deep in thought he didn’t even notice the voice of his house-mate. It was a bit embarrassing. “Did you… um, need anything?”

“Not particularly, you seemed sidetracked. What were you thinking about?” Steven smirked at the way Jaime pouted slightly as he crushed on the sofa next to him, fondling the cushions underneath them until he found the television remote. When Jamie didn’t answer with anything but an annoyed glare the dark haired man grinned mischievously. “Wait… did I interrupt a wet dream…? Oh, James dear, we've got to get you laid.”  

“Shut up-“ Jaime sighedat his infuriating friend and laid his head back, looking at the ceiling as the noises of the television filled the room. “I was just thinking about a job I have-“ Steven groaned and caught his look with his eyebrows raised.

“You were thinking about that thing you’ve been reconstructing down there, right?” there was an accusation of some sort in his voice, though Jaime didn’t understand why. It wasn’t that he was neglecting his other obligations…well, not too much; all of his projects and commissions were submitted in time, none of his costumers were disappointed in his work, he made money to support himself…

Steven’s eyebrows rose even more when Jaime didn’t answer. “Guess that’s a yes.” He shrugged and stared at the television for a little while before shutting it down, sighing loudly. “Hey, did you eat already? I’m starving.”

Jaime got up, shaking his head. “I’m not hungry, and I’ve got work to do.” He began to take his leave when Steven’s hand captured his wrist and tugged on it. The dark haired man gave him a weird look, squinting his eyes as he spoke.

“Did you eat at all today? Yesterday?” he inquired, awaiting a response which only came in the form of Jamie’s eyes dropping to look at the floor. “James, did you get any sleep last night?” he bit his lower lip and raised his eyes.

“A few hours—I have loads of work to do, its fine. I’ll eat later.” 

Steven’s hand tightened around his wrist just before he pulled at it with a lot more vigor, making Jamie’s form fall over the Sofa’s edge and over the man’s body. He then rolled so their positions reversed – having the brown haired youth lying on the sofa as Steven straddled his waist, holding Jamie securely under him with both hands on his shoulders.

Jamie opened his eyes – which he closed in fright as he was hauled from the floor by the other man – slowly, gulping when he found his friend’s face more close to his than he was comfortable with, again.

“Steven… what-?!“ he muttered as he pushed his miraculously still present and unbroken glasses up the bridge of his nose. Steven smile mischievously. 

“James,” Steve pulled the name’s length longer than it actually was, “Your work on that robot.” He opened his eyes wider, his face still very close to Jaime’s, “It can wait right?”

Jaime frowned but stayed in the same position. Steven was bigger and stronger than he was – not that it ever made him worry, Steven was his friend for years they quarreled about a lot of stuff, usually Steven would come on top of every argument they settled this way and Jaime was not fond of it, but it never caused any harm either.

“Actually no, not really” He answered, turning his face away from his friend’s stare, “Get off.”

“Jamie, you have to eat.” Steven’s expression changed at once, becoming severe. “I didn’t think it was possible, I mean, you’ve always been so scrawny, but in those last two weeks you’ve actually shrunk even more.” The smirk returned to his lips, but not to his eyes. He actually looked concerned, “Come on, let’s go get ourselves a super-sized pizza with extra cheese, I’ll pay and everything. You can work on the idiotic robot later…”

And lord, did Pizza sound like an amazing idea. Even if at the end it would be him who pays for it as always happened. Jaime tried to keep his face straight when he looked up at his house-mate. “We can order in.” he muttered, witnessing Steven’s features distort unattractively in annoyance. “You’ll get that pizza and I will eat while I work, and everyone will be happy.” He concluded then and raised a bit, trying to extract his captured knees from under his friend’s thighs, but they did not budge. “Steven… come on, get off.”

“Jaime.” Steven’s voice was dangerously soft, his eyes the same. “James, it’s not healthy. You’ve been spending more time working on the freakish pile of trash than I spend watching crappy dramas on TV, more than I spend getting _drunk_.” Steven spent a lot of time getting drunk, more than any other person Jaime knew including some of the alcoholic hobos roaming the streets outside. That didn’t change anything as far as he was concerned, his robot was important – he didn't know what for – but it was, and while his work was turning to be rather intense sometimes, it still wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

The weight on Jaime’s stomach somehow seemed heavier now, Steven was pushing down on him and trying to persuade him by force, preventing him from moving at all other than a small squirm-like attempt, Jaime knew his friend was concerned, he knew that he was trying to help in the only way he knew how but his fingers were pressing too deep into his skin and his weight became too much and all Jaime wanted was to go back to his studio and continue working-

“Get off!” a voice bawled, Jaime didn’t mean for it to sound this desperate, it wasn’t intended to be this desperate and pitiful – it left both himself and Steven a bit shocked, but not as much as they both became when suddenly Steven was pulled away – more like dragged and hauled violently from the sofa and over their coffee table, it’s impact with his body causing the piece to crash under him.

“Oh… god… S-Steven?!” Jaime got up quickly, finding his path was blocked by a figure that could not possibly be there. Was not in any scenario a viable part of the scene that had just finished playing. The robot was hibernating downstairs – it was shut down, put in sleep mode that only an intended press on a very specific set of buttons could release it from. It could not be there, it could not be looking at him with it expressionless eyes before turning to find Steven’s form beginning to raise from the wreckage of wood that had once been a decent coffee table. The humanoid monitored the dark haired human, his head following the movements of Steven’s body with a mechanical shriek, his fingers clenched into a fist and it raised – every movement spelled out violence, lack of control and inconceivable rage, threatening to come down on Steven who groaned and attempted to roll away or get his hands in front of his face, protect himself from the rampage aimed solely at him.

“Stop!” just as the fisted arm started it's movement toward his fallen friend Jamie’s voice surprised him once more, not in its fragility but this time in its firmness. The Robot tightened frame relaxed at once, his fingers spread back and he turned to gaze upon the youth, tilting its head in what could have been seen as confusion. Jaime tried not to pay mind to it as he forced his legs to work again, running to aide his friend to his own.

Steven had a few scratches, and a bleeding gash on the arm he used to block his fall. Thankfully none of those wounds were worse, and Jaime couldn’t find any splintered wood poking out of his friend’s skin, so that was probably fine. He helped Steven back to the sofa, laying him down while trying to ignore the two green orbs following and quietly analyzing their every move as he held his fingers in front of his friend's eyes and tried to conclude if he had a concussion or something worse.

 

“You activated it…” The accusation in Steven's voice made Jaime cringe as he wrapped a bandage around his friend's arm, "Did you even think to warn me that I had a fucking… psychedelic, murderous robot strolling around in the house?"

Jaime flinched again, finishing the bandaging work. "I… I shut him down after. I…" he didn't know what to say, how to explain that the humanoid was not supposed to be activated, it was not supposed to be up there, it was not supposed to be able to do any of the things he showed the capability to do just minutes before. He didn't know how to explain it to himself, and much less so to his roommate and friend who had no scientific understanding of anything at all.

Steven's face distorted and turned to gesture at the frame of the humanoid standing without movement next to one wall, poised straight and stiff like a soldier. "Well obviously you didn't. But now will be a good time to do it and after you're done I'm going to get a fucking hacksaw and tear it to pieces—"

The robot turned his head at them at once, its eyes glowing precariously. Steven recoiled and hissed in pain, Jaime's hand accidently tightening around his arm where he had just finished treating the wound. Completely accidently. "Sorry! Uh… I am sorry." he mumbled when Steven shot a look of grievance mixed with ire at him, "He was not supposed to be violent, I think… I think he was trying to protect me." Steven pulled his arm away from him and got up slowly, groaning in pain.

"That's hilarious Jamie, why would you need protection? And what does protecting you have to do with breaking my back?" it seemed that his friend was hopelessly trying to sound impudent, but the pain rigging his voice made it sound simply pitiful. "I see that look, James, stop it." Steven growled, prompting the Robot to raise his head to the voice once again, the movement accompanied by a menacing shriek created by the joints in its neck, it would have to be fixed later… "James, turn it off." Steven's voice cut through his line of thought, snapped it forcefully and tore it from his grasp. "Turn it off and take it back where you found it, it's dangerous."

Jamie bit his lip as he got up, taking a few steps back from his friends lodging place. "I… I can't- I won't. He was just trying to help." He went to his robot, staying a safe distance away as he watched the android's head return to its place, his eyes following him slowly, the menacing glow in them tuning down a notch. Even if he said that the Robot was helping him or… trying to protect… both were absurdly unbelievable. Even if the Robot had that kind of function, even if he could recognize his master was in peril and come to his help – well first of all Jamie was not his master. He never programmed the Robot to think that he was, he never intended to do that. Robots were not ducklings – they didn't just follow the first thing they saw at their first activation. They required a specific set of orders to be input into their system or otherwise they'd just be hunks of metal with no real functionality. Second thing – the Robot was shut down, hibernating. It shouldn't have woken up without specific orders. Something was obviously wrong in its systems. It could be dangerous, just as Steven said. It could be completely out of control…

The Robot still followed his movements, unmoving, calm. "I'm sorry." It said slowly then, tearing Jamie away from the train of thought he drifted away on. "I'm sorry that I've saddened you." It repeated, remaining planted in its place. "Jamie."

"Oh great, it's apologizing. What about an apology for attacking me, you trash?!" Steven's voice rose from the sofa, and the Robot turned to look in its direction, his eyes thinning as he focused on it just before returning his gaze to Jamie, who bit his lips slightly harder.

"That man is upsetting you." The Robot stated, "Should he be dealt with?"

"Your robot is psychopathic, Jamie." Steven moaned from the sofa, "No wonder he was at that junk yard, I can help you throw it back there if you want." The banter caused the robot to clench his fists again. The expression on his face remaining unchanging, the query still in his eyes. Should Steven be 'dealt' with? Was he upsetting Jamie?

The repartee kept on persistently leaving Steven's mouth, not ceasing when Jamie groaned annoyingly at it, attempting not to sound distressed so the Robot won't take it as a sign to go and annihilate his best, and most annoying, idiotic friend.

"Enough! I think I'll go get that… um, pizza we talked about before." Jaime cracked out gradually as he closed his eyes and messaged his temple to rid himself from the massive ache that had started forming behind it. He turned away from the Robot and from the origin of Steven's voice.

He couldn't handle this. He needed to think and neither of the overly-protective, self important beings occupying the room was making it any easier for him to concentrate. "Try not to kill each other, and if you do – try not to make too much of a mess."

He fled the room to the angry shouts in Steve's voice telling him not to leave the Robot in the room alone with him, and the uneasy feeling of robotic eyes on his back, following him as he left the room and shut the door behind him, not looking back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can see some friendly rivalry developing between those two, how about you? OwO|||
> 
>  
> 
> Edit: Oooh right! there are some new drawings for this story. :D  
> First, here are Steven and Jaime "quarreling", done by http://scifoxart.tumblr.com/ :  
> http://i59.tinypic.com/wpro2.jpg
> 
> And a give away gift from http://perplexingly.tumblr.com/ ! she drew Jaime and the robot for me and done so beautifully!   
> http://perplexingly.tumblr.com/post/83822434550/a-gift-for-narukyuu-who-won-my-give-away-i-hope


End file.
